


The Unbalanced Ones

by Dracostar



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Existential Crisis, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Night Terrors, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Repressed Memories, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracostar/pseuds/Dracostar
Summary: Drabbles and One-shots that delve into UrVi and SkekYag's respective pasts. Lots of angst will ensue.
Kudos: 4





	1. Unbalance

They had decided that a diagnosis was needed. Nights of terrors had filled the entire valley for far too long. Screams, echoing off every cliff face and crevice, awakened the others; his strange behavior was not concurring to their ways. The self-induced isolation, the deep, sleep-like meditations that would last weeks on end...the speed of his movements and the ways in which he expressed his emotions in vulgar abundance, like a wildfire gone astray...

His song was no longer in tune with theirs. 

So they had sent him to the Ritual Guardian to see if there was a cure for the ailment the Healer could not find. 

UrVi walked across the planks that spiraled around their home that was barely home, and listened to the echo as it reverberated across the path and bounced off the walls of the valley. It filled him with a sense of unease he could not explain in thought coherent or conceptual: if he was forced to, however, he would've said it was as if the entire valley had eyes and ears that watched him...judged him. 

Another idea other UrRu would have given him strange looks for. Why would he feel unsafe in the Valley? Was he not sure in the strength of the magic he himself had spoken unto the stones? Or did he fear something else? What guilt plagued his soul that left the others unaffected? What caused his dreams, his nightmares, his delusions of their supposed erring inertia? 

Even UrVi could not answer their unasked questions, and this disturbed him; so he had agreed to their request, however reluctantly, and made his way to where the Ritual Guardian resided: a large cave opening, the same as all the others in shape, differing only in what little decor adorned the entrance. 

Suddenly he paused. A fear, all too familiar and yet completely aberrant gripped him, rooting him in place like a small tree. The grip he held on his staff tightened, making his knuckles go white and his arm shake from the strain. He inhaled, but it was all he could do: the air would only go in and remain trapped in his lungs like a tight balloon, pressing against his ribcage and crushing his pounding heart. 

_"Run,_ " His mind whispered fervently, _"run away, run and never, ever come back."_

Oh, he wanted to. He wanted to leave this place behind, to transverse this terrestrial plane and ascend back to what had once been...but he lacked both the courage and the ability. He was no longer himself, but an empty half of something that was once beautiful. They all were...

Still, his panic rose in his chest, coming to a screeching crescendo of terror that almost drove him into motion, that almost drove him to leave the Valley and its residents behind, to abandon all that was, but the sound of slow footsteps stopped him. 

He closed his eyes and finally exhaled, turning to meet his fellow Mystic with an exhausted attempt at a smile. 

"...UrZah," He said in greeting. His knuckles were still white from how hard he gripped his staff. 

"UrVi," The Ritual Guardian sighed; They all said his name in a sigh, as if he was their burden to bear. 

UrVi swallowed. "...I…" 

"Came for an answer...that others have long sought?" The Guardian finished for him. 

UrVi said nothing, but no response was needed to state what was already so clear. He bowed his head, making the long locks of his mane brush against the sand-covered ground. Again, the Ritual Guardian sighed, and then he walked into his cave, gesturing with a flick of his tail for UrVi to follow. 

The inside of the cave was dark, lit only by the dim light of windows carved into the wall and a few meager candles that were slowly burning down to nothing. The smell of incense burned UrVi's nostrils, but it helped to soothe some of the nervous energy that had heaped up in the past few moments; He inhaled as much as he could, hoping to still his aching heart. 

They stopped in the center of a larger empty cavern, the walls of which were covered in painted prayer spirals lit by a single ray of light coming from a hole far above. Sitting underneath this heavenly ray did little to warm him; no, he somehow felt that it was meant to asperse his very soul...perhaps purifying it by exposing his darkness and burning it away with its cold light. 

He looked up, both directly into the brightness and yet somewhere far through it. Familiarity blended with unfathomable guilt and a great sense of horror for the things that had been consumed him; he could no longer control himself: it was as if he was only an observer trapped in a vessel, unable to command its movement. 

_And then he was there, helpless and confined to the warmth of his own hair, still agonizing over the pain of division. He kept staring, kept longing over the one who was him that sat obtusely across the room; he could hardly see past the sleek black curtain of his hair, only_ **_feel_ ** _the separation, the wrongness of what had happened._

**_I am no longer YagVi._ **

_The realization strikes him like sacrilege. This new form is now cold and horrible, immovable in his shock._

_The others were not as still in their confusion and fear: their screams echoed across the chamber of mirrors, the crystal overseeing it all like a cold despot. Their cries rang in his ears worst of all, and the tears ran freely down his face without meaning or coherent feeling as he then realized they too, those he had grown to love, were no longer._

_Two things, gnarled and hot, wrapped about his neck with spindly claws. His hair blinded him, he could not see which former friend was trying to rip the life from him...he could only feel the hate and fear radiating from this being, and then he too, was filled with fear. All his muscles contracted, he reached up with shivering limbs to stop the constriction of his throat…_

_He couldn't breathe…_

_He couldn't breathe…_

_"Aughra help me…"_

"UrVi!" 

He had not realized he had fallen. His muscles all ached and protested with his movement. His chest was suddenly tight; he was hyperventilating, unable to control his breathing. Where was he? Not safe. No, not safe…

He scrunched his eyes shut and took advantage of the fact he was already on his side. The cold rock beneath him acted like a solid anchor, something he could cling to in this madness: he curled up against it, as tightly as he could, trying to breathe. 

**_Not safe_ **

**_Not safe_ **

**_Not safe_ **

_The feeling of claws closing around his throat, the heat of the pit drawing ever closer…_

"UrVi!" 

Who was that? UrZah? Why was UrZah here? 

"UrVi...you are safe," the voice slowly drawled on, in a tone both consistent and reassuring, "you are with me -UrZah- in my home, in the Valley of the Standing Stones. You are far away from the Palace. You...are... _safe_." 

UrVi inhaled deeply. Yes...UrZah was here. It was safe. He could breathe; he just needed to focus. He chose the ground as a starting point. 

Cold...cold and solid. It pressed against his cheek, against the side of his snout. It pressed against his shoulder, it pressed against the ribs sticking out of his sides, it pressed against his hip, his haunches, his tail: it was all real. He inhaled, taking in the scents around him: the musk of the incense still clung to the air about him. His own perspiration filled his senses...He did not smell burning flesh, he did not smell Skeksis. 

Slowly, he let his eyes flutter open, his mind still tentative, like he had just awakened from a nightmare. UrZah had craned his neck downward to be at eye-level with his patient; UrVi tried to avoid it. He did not want to see the disgust in the Ritual Guardian's eyes. 

He felt a hand come forward, and his world was no longer covered in a shade of blue. UrVi took a moment to study this new viewpoint, and it bothered him. 

"What are you doing?" He asked softly. 

UrZah placed the glasses on the ground next to UrVi's fallen staff. His hand again extended towards his patient's snout. 

"...Reading your patterns," he said, but the appendage hovered over UrVi's nose, as if he was waiting for something. 

He closed his eyes, feeling the sigh escape him before he could stop it. He nodded, giving the Ritual Guardian silent permission to finish his task. There came a short pause, and then warm fingers pressed against the four spirals on his nose. His body tensed up, sending pain flaring throughout his muscular systems, but slowly, ever so slowly, he relaxed. 

UrZah's fingers began to delicately trace along the lines on his snout, following the spirals wherever they led. His breath brushed against their skin as he dipped in closer to examine the intricate designs on their face. The Ritual Guardian murmured quietly, but amongst what was uttered UrVi was only able to discern a few words. 

He touched the spirals on UrVi's snout: these he deemed "repetitive thought"; Along and up the bridge of his nose, brushing away the silk strands, his fingers found the lines across his forehead: these were "profound emotion". More layers of hair were brushed away, revealing more of the hieroglyphics of UrVi's mind, imprinted forever across his skin; something about that thought, and the vulnerability of his station made the Dreamer's stomach tighten: what exactly was UrZah reading off of him? What dark things lingered on the surface? 

UrZah's reading was stopped by a cloth collar. He paused again, and UrVi could sense those eyes on him, expecting action. 

He sighed, feeling his stomach tighten and twist against his reasons as he sat up and began unbinding his robes. A moment's hesitance, an urge to leave and hide grabbed hold, until he smashed it down to the darker corners of his mind; he did not want to impede UrZah's work, but he also didn't want to be seen… 

A deep inhale was all he needed for his actions to coincide with a second of mental blankness. His robes fell, and he found himself bare before the Ritual Guardian. How strange the cool air felt against their skin...how it almost stung the areas that hadn't been visible before…

He opened his eyes, immediately hating the look on UrZah's face and how everything he had wanted to avoid seemed to come to fruition despite his efforts against it; it made him want to hide away and cover himself again. 

UrZah gingerly reached out, brushing his fingers along the angular ribs sticking out at UrVi's sides. His voice held nothing but condensed appall. 

"...Don't you _eat_?" The Guardian gasped. 

The Dreamer barely repressed the urge to grind his teeth; he ate just as much as anyone else, and yet he never seemed to heal, and no one believed that the condition wasn't a result of his own intentional self-ruin. 

He failed to repress his irate in his response. 

"I do." He said, more terse than he would have liked. 

UrZah seemed to have a flash of skepticism in his eyes, but if he had anything to say in opposition he kept it to himself, and instead picked up one of UrVi's arms. His fingers traced over the lines again, measuring out every change in the pattern, pausing shortly whenever the thoughts were broken by rugged scarring; maps that indicated the many different incidents UrVi had faced in the wilds of Thra; Some of those scars were consequences of his own, others had been shared through the link between himself and the other half of his being. 

The reading moved back up his arms again and brushed over his chest. The murmuring resumed, and UrVi could catch "deep meditation" amongst his mutterings. The patterns led downward towards the ribs, swirling inward towards his belly and chest like curling claws. UrZah sighed. 

"...Your mind would read easier...if you were more filled out." He said quietly, letting the patterns lead him towards UrVi's spine like a premeditated path. 

The Dreamer dared not respond to that; a harsh response would only lead to yet another mistake, and they had enough mistakes on their tally. 

UrZah's fingers pressed against one of the vertebrae, forcing UrVi to arch his back. 

"...Like scars," UrZah murmured, "but from pain of another kind…" 

He glanced downward, his hand dropping back to his sides to conclude his examination. 

"...The patterns only repeat as long as you remain trapped in this cycle." 

UrVi hurriedly grabbed his robes, desperate to cover the traces of his derelict state. As he wrapped the cloth around himself, he pondered the words he had received. UrZah handed then back their glasses, and the Dreamer took a moment to survey the silence, pressing for an opportunity to ask their question. 

"...So...what is wrong with me?" They asked, almost inaudible in their apprehension. 

The Ritual Guardian's face was grave, but his voice gave no way to anything other than calm insouciance. 

"...Unbalance." 

The response was cold, passionless, and yet ruthless in its delivery; The diagnosis felt like a verdict, and that verdict -somehow- like damnation. 

The Unbalanced one's hands shook as they reached for their staff. Their throat was dry, their tongue like lead, and yet they evaded caution and pressed on. 

"...And...that means…?" 

UrZah's back was already to him in dismissal as he slowly crept out of the room. 

"You…must find the answer...in yourself." 

Something surged through his veins at those words then, something fast and burning, both familiar and shameful. It coursed through him, building up in intensity until it threatened to spill out of him like a flaming torrent. 

" **_What-_ **" UrVi had to cut himself off abruptly before his rage forced him to say cruel things. It was too late to take back his words; UrZah had his head raised, listening patiently for the rest of the sentence. 

They inhaled softly. 

"...What does that mean?" His voice was icy, nearly cracking from the heat of the rage buried beneath. 

The Ritual Guardian did not answer for a long moment. UrVi foolishly let hope simmer in the recesses of his emotional turmoil, despite knowing and fully expecting the downfall. 

A sigh shattered his heart long before the response.

_"...No one here can help you."_

And The Unbalanced consigned himself to this fact. 


	2. Iniquity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the gruenaks are all gone, one tries to shake the guilt in all the wrong ways.

_ He was sick. _

_ The air closed in around him, thick and heavy with his own perspiration and breath. The walls were closing in, too, the floor bucked up to throw him off his feet, the room spun, and all the light was refracting in too many shapes and blurs of color to perceive. _

_ His mind was expanding outward, engulfing the familiarity of his home and corrupting it, changing it until it melded into strangeness that served only to make him more ill.  _

_ A voice, vaguely clear in the delusion:  _

**"...The mushrooms you ate do not agree with the drink you took."**

_ He only began to realize that he was sobbing and shrieking. Images flashed before his mind's eye, something he had been trying to escape before he took the plunge into this nightmarish madness- but what it was he could not recall. He sobbed, hard enough to shake his thin, fragile ribs painfully. His stomach clenched next, and he began to retch.  _

_ A hand gently pushed the back of his head until his snout hung over an empty wooden void- a bucket. He gladly emptied his stomach into it and began another round of agonizing sobs. He couldn't stop the shaking, and he strangely felt as if his body had decided to fall apart without his own consent- or maybe he had consented, and in this wretched state could not remember that he had.  _

**"Here, lay down...the Healer will be here to see you soon. That's it...empty the well of your tears until tranquillity washes over you."**

_ Riddles and cryptic words that meant nothing and everything all at once. Mystic silliness. He yelled something at the bespectacled snout that didn't even sound like a real language until he was pushed back onto the bed. His limbs betrayed him, and then he really began to panic. Tears that may or may not have been his own blinded him.  _

_ He didn't realize that his arms and legs and tail where being held down to keep him from lashing out upon those who sought to help. He screamed, he cried, the world melted, and he alone was left in the ruin his mind had created. His black fingernails dug into the bedding, too dull to do satisfactory damage.  _

_ The others cooed to him, stroked his mane, tried to get him to calm down- but it only served to upset him further. His body seized under their soft touches. He retched and heaved dryly, unable to breathe through the burst of sobs.  _

_ He wanted to shriek at the others- he  _ **_was_ ** _ shrieking at the others, but could not form the words he desired to conjure; What these words were supposed to be he no longer knew, but there was a sense of extreme urgency that drove him onward in the verbal onslaught.  _

_ So desperate was his mission, he began to grasp at clarity in all its forms. His mind unraveled, the strings of thought raced and spun too fast for him to put into order- the nightmarish images flashed before his eyes. Strange, hulking figures with sad faces and large dark eyes, green skinned…a word flashed in his memory: gruenak.  _

**_Gone._ **

**_They were all gone._ **

**"** We could have saved them…" 

**_Gone._ **

"We could have saved them and we did  **_nothing_ ** ." 

_ He shrieked a garbled, drunken form of his original intent, the message itself lost to drug and drink. His tongue would not obey him, and the room spun on and on, blurring the shapes. His body ceased to function to his will, and finally, deathly exhaustion stepped in to claim him.  _

_ The others were murmuring now, but even that last coherent sense was failing. Darkness, almost soothing in its finality, consumed him, and he succumbed to it. He felt himself being lifted, and something warm and bitter was rushing down his throat and into the emptiness of his stomach.  _

_ Steadily his breathing returned. The sobs died away into a soft sniffling that shook him now and again. Warmth spread from his core and into his limbs, but it brought no comfort for his soul. Visions swam in his head, violent and unending. Anger welled inside him, boiling in his veins. He almost retched again, but somehow it stayed down.  _

_ The voices died away with his last conscious thoughts… _

_ But the guilt never would.  _

_ *********** _

"...The worst is over. They'll need sleep to restore what has been lost, but they will live." 

UrIm pulled the thick blanket over UrVi's still form as he read out his diagnosis. The others simply watched in silence. UrLii adjusted his glasses, nervous tension making his hands shake. 

"So how did you come across him this way, Storyteller?" 

UrLii paused, but his eyes never left UrVi's form. 

"...I heard them screaming, and so I came to see if their nightmares had once again consumed them...but they had not. Another nightmare lingers: their mind torments them with guilt, which they seek to drown with hallucinations and podling drink. The only coherent word I heard from them...was 'gruenak'." 

A hush filled the room like a thick smoke, and they all choked on it, each in his own way. They had all known about the war...the conquest...the ultimate extermination of an entire race. They could not escape the adherence of guilt, nor their bonds to their counterparts. They had done nothing, and Thra's children had suffered...an d they were left to reflection.


	3. Dreaded Cycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SkekYag and UrVi get high and have a very emotional conversation.

The fire crackled between them, the heat slowly warming both forms of the same being until they could feel it in their bones. One was cloaked in black, a living shadow emerging from the flickering background- his other across from him the opposite, clothed in blue like a piece of the sky had fallen and taken form. One bright, one dark. 

SkekYag did not know why he tolerated it; the contrast was just as horrible as the being before him. Light  _ or _ dark, he thought, not both at once; that was the way things should be. Twilight could not exist past the slight limitations it was granted. It would be chaos to suggest otherwise. 

Not that UrVi cared about chaos. He stole a quiet glance the urru's way, feeling the unnatural sense of wrong creeping up his spine as he gazed at the blue and grey form huddled behind the shivering flame. UrVi did not stir, their eyes gazing somewhere else far beyond SkekYag's consideration. 

Maybe he wanted to say something, perhaps to break through the sense of unease slithering through him, as his mouth opened and closed a few times; but although words were in his mind, his tongue would not form them, and thus the moment was lost to the cackling of the flame. He sulked on it for a time, bemoaning to himself on how talking to UrVi was never easy. 

UrVi must have felt the same, as they began to chew on something small and blue. SkekYag hadn't realized what it was, nor the danger it presented, until it was well within his counterpart's system, and by then the cavern had taken on an arcane air. Around them, symbols neither of them could fathom or discern swirled about the walls. SkekYag clutched his head. 

"How many of those mushrooms did you take?" He snapped. The colors of the flames danced around the room. 

UrVi shrugged. "Alot." 

"And how did you scarf down enough to get me high, too? I watched you the entire time." 

"You glanced away...for a split second." Their speech faded into a slower drawl, their eyelids drooping as a mellow intoxication overtook them. 

SkekYag felt it too, a lightness that forced him into reluctant relaxation. He blinked, but each movement of his eyelids failed to clear his vision. Colors continued to dance, the symbols spun about them, and a strange drumming filled his ears. When he looked across from him, it seemed UrVi was the only clear thing in the room. He reached out then, seeking to grab hold of the vibrant blue halo about his counterpart's form, but found he almost caught himself on fire in the attempt. 

UrVi hummed, slinking over to where SkekYag was dizzily sitting, and dragged him over to a spot where they could not burn. There they laid, side by side, watching the visions swirling above their heads. 

"What's that?" 

"What's...what?" 

"That music. It's everywhere." His eyes glanced about furtively, as if expecting a parade of instruments to materialize. 

"That is Thra…Can't you hear its heartbeat? The rhythmic percussion of creation?"

SkekYag scoffed and tried to cover his ears, but it was futile. The music was coming from both inside and all around him, his own heart beating to its diction. He growled. 

"Make it stop!" 

"I cannot. Neither can you." 

"And why not? Am I not Lord-" 

"You. Are Lord of  _ Nothing _ ." 

UrVi's tone remained mild and calm, but the words cut so deep SkekYag flinched at the sting. He knew them to be truth; UrVi knew he knew, yet still felt the need to vocalize the point. 

"...We do not belong here. We have no right to belonging in Thra's song. To call ourselves Lords of it is folly...if not blasphemy." 

SkekYag chuckled, a cold sound as hard as iron. 

"Oh? You're going to lecture me about right and wrong now?" 

"You don't have to listen-" 

"I want to. Stay and talk to me." 

There was a long pause. The visions danced again, faster, memories and thoughts blurring together. 

"...We do not belong here." 

"Have we ever had a place  _ anywhere _ ?" The voice was bitter, but his hand was warm where it joined with one of UrVi's; maybe to keep him company, maybe to keep him sane. 

UrVi took no mind. Their gaze remained aloof as they stared at the infinite ceiling above. 

"...No. We were a mistake." 

SkekYag snorted. "So what? You're telling me we were just born ruined? That we've always been this way?" 

He studied his claws- or the multitudes of them he perceived in this state- and tried to discern if there was some sort of tangible evidence of the Urskeks' error. 

"Yes," UrVi said. He took SkekYag's hand once again, leading them both back to clarity. The room came into sharper focus, though still blurred at the edges and muted by the strange visions. SkekYag blinked at it all and dully wondered if it would ever go away. 

He looked at his hands again to find that only three obeyed. Somehow, one was still entwined with UrVi's own, refusing to untangle its digits from the warmer, softer fingers keeping them in place. It was pleasant and sickening, and SkekYag wasn't sure if he wanted to let go of the salubrious nausea it caused. 

"YagVi," UrVi droned on, though he wasn't quite sure if it was actually the urru speaking anymore, "YagVi, was not like the others. Shunned for their appearance, the markings they had that dulled their white starglow...the Collective named them after their own guilt, their failure to produce a perfect, exemplary being like the others. 

Their society was a cruel one, though they claimed the lack of heart was perfection and the coldness of their hardened souls a virtue. YagVi, stained with the sin of his creators, was left as a discarded relic of their malfunction, brought out into the stinging judgement of the light only when they felt need to publicly ostracize his flaws: Blemished One, was his given title; representation of all Urskek was  _ not _ to be. 

But YagVi, obstinate, optimistic thing he was, refused to dim his light to please them; he had no malice in mind, with this subtle disobedience of being, he just wanted to live...and maybe this angered them.

...And perhaps through his suffering they sought their own redemption. In their eyes, his blemishes were mirrors of the flaws they sought to hide even from themselves; and so, through his destruction, they may have believed their impiety would be purified-" 

"Shut up. Just...shut up!" 

His arm flung out, the claws grabbing hold in the grooves imprinted on UrVi's snout, sinking in as he clamped the jaws shut. UrVi hummed for a bit, as if trying to continue despite him, but eventually that attempt died off as well. 

SkekYag scrunched his eyes shut, hoping to keep whatever was inside from spilling out and taking form. 

"...Shut up. I don't want to remember. I've spent our entire existence trying to forget...don't make me remember." 

UrVi's eyes asked why. SkekYag growled and released him. Began to pace around. 

"...Why would you  _ want _ to? Isn't it easier to pretend that all of that never happened? That we've always been as we are now? UrVi and SkekYag, two separate beings with this insufferable link between them?!" 

" _ You _ were the one who told me the dangers of bromides." UrVi said gently, but their voice held a lilt of mockery. They sat upright and tilted their head, expression melting from that sure smile into sympathy. 

"...SkekYag, this is all wrong." 

"Skishmak, you  _ think _ ?" he cursed in Skeksish, making UrVi flinch from the severity and harshness of the word. He clenched his fists, unsheathed claws digging into skin, but he did not stop.

"Look at us, UrVi! Freaks of nature! Abominations! Not that we weren't before, mind you, we're just slightly better off now, that they  _ somewhat _ accept us!" 

He snorted and threw his hands in the air, feathers all on end, hackles raised. 

"I at least wormed my way through court, made a few-  _ allies _ , let's say, since they certainly weren't my friends, at least not in the end- and made a place for myself! You made a home in the Valley, were loved by the mad Storyteller-"

"He wasn't mad  _ then _ ," UrVi corrected, barely a mumble. 

"-Skishmak, maybe he only loved you  _ because _ he was mad!- I don't know, I don't care. The point is, we at least somewhat belong here now. Why not keep going? Skeesh, why not  _ die _ here? Become part of Thra, as you so eagerly suggested?" 

"I never suggested that, I suggested we heal the Crystal...return to what we once were. You would know that if you had ever-" 

"Why would I want to return to that?" He snapped, "Why would anyone want to return to that?" 

"Is it any different now? Aren't we still outcasts? Aren't we still pariahs?" 

UrVi's voice raised past quiet tension into a full on attack, infinite patience melting away under the fires of anger. SkekYag grinned. His counterpart was finally showing some actual  _ spine _ for once. He sneered, placing his hands on his hips and leaning over him condescendingly. 

"Be careful UrVi," he taunted, "UrSu might think you were showing some actual emotion. That's not the Mystic way." 

UrVi glared up at him, fists bleeding through the fingertips where SkekYag's claws had harmed them. 

"...I never swore to the Mystic way." 

SkekYag snorted and let his hands drop to his sides. Everything was dizzy and hazy, distorted into shapes he dare not name or bother to recognize. 

"...You hypocrite." He grumbled at last, having no better way to end or start the argument all over again. 

UrVi glared up at him, fire burning behind their eyes as if they wanted to say something pithy, maybe even hurl insults his way; but it did not last long before it was extinguished by tears. They glimmered like jewels in the fire glow, droplets running down UrVi's cheeks in thin streams that evaporated in the dark. For a moment, SkekYag contemplated taking them and making a necklace. He wondered how many he would need, and what would be the end result…

The fire distracted him, and he glared into it instead. The long tongues formed and twisted in the air, making more horrid shapes SkekYag couldn't stand yet couldn't look away from; something about their abstruse, abstract luminance that lingered on divinity; something, within that almost-divinity, that reminded him of what he wanted to forget. 

His hand reached out, grasping for a hold on reality before it slipped away from him. He sensed, dimly, the presence of UrVi's hand nearby and reached for it. UrVi took their hand away. Despite the flames, he felt cold. 

He turned to them, realizing his mistake only in the extension of what he had lost. 

"Give me your hand." 

UrVi did not look at him, their eyes fixed upon the flame. 

"No." 

"Why not? I'm cold." 

"Fire's right there." 

"That's not what I mean. You know it." 

The cold was sinking into their bones too, deep within the recesses of that unholy anatomy that shouldn't exist. He knew, because he felt it. He knew, because UrVi was shivering as much as he was, like two magnets on the very verge of union, kept just a hairline apart, yet trying with all the force held within them to connect. 

He reached again. "...I'm sorry." 

UrVi made a sound of contempt, yet their hand gingerly enclosed his in its warmth. They couldn't withstand the strain any longer. They needed him as much as he needed them. 

"You're only sorry when you want something from me." They said, but their tone held none of the contempt. It just felt sad, defeated. 

SkekYag shook his head. Paused, reconsidering, then nodded. 

"I know. I'm sorry. I want to be better." 

UrVi made the sound again, with much less contempt. They sat down, but didn't release his hand. He crawled into their lap, leaning his head on their chest, pillowed by the soft grey-silver curtains of their hair. 

"You are better. You just have a hard time realizing that sometimes." They wrapped three of their arms around him, keeping him safe from the visions swirling about. 

"I'm only better when I'm with you. If you want to know the truth, I really think you are the better part of whatever YagVi was; whatever good was in him, is in you. Whatever good is in me now, is only because you brought it out of me. Maybe that's why I'm always so angry." 

It all came out in a quick jumble, an admission of guilt he hadn't known of until that moment; or at least, not consciously. It felt nice to release it into the air, to feel it loosen the tension around them. He felt like he could breathe again. 

UrVi looked down at him, their tears dry, but the paths they had made still staining their cheeks. They smiled, very faintly.

"No," they cooed, "you're only angry because you feel helpless. You feel as if there's nothing you can do about anything. But you're wrong. The only reason you can't do anything is because you are not whole...and neither am I. We  _ need _ each other." 

Their fingers entwined with his, squeezing gently. 

"The good in you was already there, ingrained within you from the very beginning, long before we met. Similarly, there's more evil in me than you will ever know...or...maybe you already know." 

UrVi glanced away for only that moment, eyes darkening with shame. When their eyes met again, it was gone, melted away and softened. 

"But we bring out the best in one another. That's why we need reunification. Apart, we're helpless...not right…" 

SkekYag sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head on their chest once again, though now it was to bury the smile he was trying to contain. 

"Alright, I get it. You can shut up now...I'm still sorry though. I shouldn't have said all those things." 

UrVi leaned on him. "I know, Shrill Shrookill. I shouldn't have reacted as I did. It was childish." 

He snorted in amusement. "Purile Urru...will you play me a song on your sitar, now? I want to drown out all this noise." 

UrVi paused, considering and weighing the offer, then finally shook their head. 

"I'm too high for that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skishmak- Skekish curse word. Equivalent of "shit" 
> 
> Skeesh- Skekish curse word, usage similar to "Hell".

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hope you enjoy the angst! Wrote most of these as part story building and part venting.


End file.
